


Contempt

by Takk



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Body Horror, Dubious Consent, Eventual Sex, M/M, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-16 09:10:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7261876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Takk/pseuds/Takk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fateful meeting within the underground of London.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> It's a really, really slow burn. Apologies that there's not much smut (yet) to be had here.

Jack pressed himself flush against the stone wall, his eyes narrowed to thin slits behind his visor as he peered cautiously down the winding expanse of King's Row. _Four marks. Three down, one to go._ He turned his head for a brief moment to regard the silhouetted, prone forms in the shuttered shop entrance. _No, there hadn't been any movement_. Jack snapped his head back to look down the alley, tension still lingering in his muscles. _Focus._ He drew in a slow breath. _Focus._ _Three down, one to go._

He tucked his heavy pulse rifle close to his chest, cradling it, as he went into a full sprint down the road and into the looming shadow of another alleyway; further away from the glowing signs and garish spray graffiti that now marred the aged stone of the London borough. Where had the mark gone? In the firefight, Jack had been quick to dispatch the scattered contingent of Talon marksmen, the light of his visor and the burning flash of his pulse rifle illuminating the darkened corner of the Row for a scant few seconds. The fourth, looming back in one of the widows high above the street front, dodged the salvo and disappeared into the shadows. _Damn._ Jack took another deep breath. _Focus._ Sirens began their wail as the security forces had already begun to filter throughout the main thoroughfare, descending into the heart of the belabored district. _No, the mark wouldn't be on the streets. Not now._ He tugged the collar of his jacket with a free hand, sweat beading along the nape of his neck as he waited for the authorities to pass by and out of sight. The flashing blue lights of their vehicles descending from overhead glared off his visor as he ducked down, pressing himself against the stonework once more and further into the underbelly of King's Row.

The security forces passed on, rounding the corner with a wail and out of sight. "Citizens! Remain--" the loudspeakers began their usual, droning chant into the night air, assuring calm and begging for a willingness to work with the authorities. The soldier turned away, continuing his movement away from the scene at a brisk jog. Talon's mark would be there; just all the further confirmation that the organization still had an iron hand over the heart of the city, even years now after the death of Mondatta. Jack's gaze flickered down and to the twisted, broken ruin of a security gate that once barred the way down into the defunct tube system that was once at the center of London's long unused transit.

_A possibility. Just finish this damned job.._

He slipped past the bars with one hand steadying the gate as he pushed past as it screeched out a rusty protest and began his slow, methodical descent into the tube. The once marble stairs had crumbled with age, further tagged with gaudy graffiti protesting the Omnic presence within the city. Here and there, the scattered, rusted remnants of a few unlucky Omnics caught in the riots could be spotted among the debris of the abandoned station. _A shame._ Expressionless behind his mask, Jack scanned the darkened alcoves before turning back down the tunnel and hazarded a fateful glance to his left as a gauntlet-clad hand slammed into his temple in a bone-jarring blow. Stars filled his vision as Jack swooned, the grip on his rifle tightening as he struggled to maintain consciousness and swung to defend himself.

The next blow that fell upon Soldier: 76 found its mark.

Jack collapsed to the ground in a senseless heap with a strangled cry, dark blood staining the back of his head as his assailant placed a heavy foot on his back, pressing him down to the cold marble with a rough chuckle. 

"Target has been neutralized," a voice rasped out into the gloom, the black-clad figure pressing his weight down onto Jack's prone form. "Finish the extraction and pull out. I'll handle the loose ends. Reaper out." Reaper stooped down low, seizing Jack by the scruff of his jacket and began to bodily drag him down into the dark of the tunnel. "It's been sometime--hasn't it, Morrison?" Reaper questioned the air, turning back to regard his unconscious quarry with an expressionless gaze. Jack's visor ground out a pitiful response against the stone. "I've missed you."


	2. Interrogation

Jack drew in a strained, ragged breath as he jerked back violently to consciousness. _Focus._ His head was swimming as he struggled to regain control of his senses--how long had he been down? Jack drew in another slow breath. He had to _focus_. He blinked away his still spotted vision behind his mask, the world coming slowly back into focus though it was little more than a spiderweb of cracks and red-tinted plastic. A cautious turn of his head rewarded him with a shock wave of pain that radiated from the back of his skull. Tacky, still warm blood coated the nape of his neck and scalp, matting his grey hair down with a sickening dark stain. _Damn.._

Jack raised a trembling hand to his mask as he worked to detach the visor with a bitter curse. A few pieces of the military grade plastic crumbled into his hand before he discarded to his side. Vision still blurry, he blinked owlishly into the darkness and found himself sprawled in the crumpled wreckage of a derelict, gutted subway car. Jack bit back another curse as he became sharply aware that he had been relieved of his rifle and biotic emitters, groping blindly along his body in hopes of finding one until a flicker of movement caught his attention.

Turgid strands of shadow and smoke coalesced in the air before him with a hiss, greedily snapping at the air around him as Reaper rapidly took form. The mercenary stooped low, settling into a crouch before him as the tendrils of red-tinged smoke slowly dissipated into the oppressive dark of the car. Jack propped himself up further, steadying his breathing--he should have known, should have predicted that Talon would have a fifth member to the squad. _Four marks? Damned idiot--no, it's always been five._  How careless he'd become in his old age.

"You weren't supposed to be here, Jack," Reaper grated out. "I'm disappointed in you. All that bravado, all that bravery.. for what?" A gauntlet-clad hand reached out, the clawed tips of the mercenary's fingers idly tracing the molded lines of Soldier: 76's mask. Jack narrowed his eyes, brow furrowing into a scowl as Reaper gloated above him. He jerked his head away from Reaper's touch with a wince as a new wave of pain radiated from the back of his skull as he bumped it against the metal paneling of the car. He remained silent, swatting the offending limb away with a half-hearted blow. A rasping chuckle was the only response to his struggling and another hand joined the other to cradle his face. Gabriel was seemingly unperturbed by Jack's growing discomfort.

_Their last encounter had been a firefight in the outskirts of Moscow; a salvo of gunfire, smoke, and blood to herald their clash in the darkened streets. There had been no familiarity between them as what remained of Reaper's life bled out into the snow. Living tendrils of shadow and smoke burnt through the ice beneath his prone body as Soldier: 76 stood triumphant over the mercenary with rifle in hand. He raised it, pointed it at Reaper's head and --_

"Jack, Jack.. let's see that smile," Reaper insisted in a low rasp, breaking Jack's reverie as his questing fingers found the release for the soldier's ruined mask. "Just like old times. That's what you've wanted, isn't it?"

"This isn't old times, Gabriel," Jack's ragged voice finally rose in protest, raising his hands to clutch onto Reyes' in some semblance of effort to stop the mercenary from unmasking him. A simple twist out of his grasp and Reaper pulled the mask away, Jack powerless to stop him as the discarded mask joined his broken visor on the ground. "Those glo-" A clawed fingertip ran over his lower lip, idly pausing to thumb at the puckered scar there as Jack drew in an unsteady, sharp breath with the words caught thick in his throat. _Why? Why here? And after all this time?_

"You made a poor judgment, Jack. I'm just here to collect on it," Reaper murmured under his breath as Jack stared blankly up at him. "Talon's already finished their extraction. You and I will have all the time we need to catch up." Silence hung heavy in the air between them as Reyes reached up to remove his own mask, smoothly dropping his cowl to reveal the ruined expanse that had once been his face.  "You know how this goes, Jack. You showed me yours me yours. Now? I'll show you mine." Gabriel offered with a mirthless chuckle.

"What do you want? An apology?" Jack bit out, his voice echoed in the cab before he abruptly struck out at Gabriel, pushing him back from him before staggering to his feet. He stared back at the mercenary, meeting the man's gaze and his expression hardened. "It's too late for that. Too late for these damned apologies. Or is this just another one of your games?" His head swam for a moment as he looked upwards at Reyes; his focus held strong and held fast as he glowered at Gabriel with renewed resolve.

"I wasn't ever much for games and no, I don't want your apology," Gabriel replied, his tone even as he withdrew back from Jack. Quiet lingered for a moment in the cab, Jack's gaze flickering past Reyes silhouetted figure in search of his gear before Reyes spoke up again. "I just want answers. An admission, even. That, Jack, is something I'm quite good at getting if you remember." With preternatural speed, Reyes was on him again and the cold barrel of a shotgun pressed against his bruised temple, pushing Jack steadily back against the stripped metal.

A weak, bitter laugh escaped Jack as he stared up at Gabriel, his arms hanging loosely by his sides as he did nothing to ward off the sudden aggression.

"Is this supposed to impress me, Gabriel? Intimidate me like one of your prisoners back when you were in Blackwatch?" Jack asked, nodding his head toward Reyes with another weak chuckle as he pushed back against the shotgun still resting against his head. "Is this how you're going to collect on my 'poor judgment'? Well, I'm not one of your prisoners. Just goddamn kill me, you idiot. Save us both the trouble." The shotgun lowered, Gabriel's expression darkening as Jack spoke before he cocked his hand back to deliver a quick, backhanded blow to Jack's face that sent him reeling back against the wall with the force of the blow. Jack hissed in pain, a hand going up to his injured eye as Gabriel seethed above him.

"Where's Angela, Jack?" Gabriel demanded, pressing the gun once more to his temple as Jack peered up at him with an incredulous expression, one eye screwed shut tight in pain.

 


	3. Just Like Old Times..

"Angela? Why?" Jack grit out between his clenched teeth, glaring up at Gabriel through one narrowed eye while he nursed the other with a gloved hand. His pulse thundered in his ears as he tried to refocus, muttering darkly to the mercenary above him. "You going to beat the shit out of her too?"

For but a moment, silence hung in the air between them as Jack stared up at Gabriel with a dismissive snort and turned his head aside as if now done with the mercenary that loomed above him. Wreathed in a whorl of smoke and shadow, Gabriel flung his gun aside with a guttural snarl and wrapped a clawed gauntlet around Jack's throat, heaving him upward. "Where is she, Jack?!"

_Focus_. Jack kicked a leg out as the hand squeezed down, aiming square for Gabriel's side and connected with a sickening crunch to a rib that buckled inward. _Too easy._ A strangled wheeze of pain, bitter curse and Gabriel dropped him to the ground as he seized up in agony at the sudden trauma. Jack was on his feet, ears ringing and good eye narrowed before settling into a fighting stance. It'd been too long since he'd done this. Too damn long. Balling up his fists, he lunged towards Reaper in soundless fury and lashed out with a left uppercut that connected square with his jaw. _No glass chin. Not on Gabe._ A right jab and Jack caught Gabriel just below the left eye with an almost breathless laugh of success as he found his mark, snapping his head back as Gabriel staggered back a half-step.

"Could do this with my eyes closed, Gabe!" Jack called out with another bitter laugh, his fists still balled before him as he advanced on Gabriel. _Just like the old days.._

Except now, years after their sparring matches, Gabriel eschewed the stance as he rounded on Jack with smoke billowing forth from his agape jaws and eyes wild with a rage that made him take pause. _Oh._ Gabriel lashed out at him in a blinding flurry of smoke-wreathed limbs, wordless in his rage and battered down at Jack without mercy. Jack dodged, deflecting the flurry of blows before another found its mark square to his injured temple. Stars filled his vision as he took a short step back, Gabriel wheeling a fist through empty air in his blinded fury before Jack stopped his next blow with a grab, heaving him back and easing back into stance once more.

Gabriel wasn't done. Not yet.

Pushing himself off one of the broken down seats with a rough yell, Gabriel lunged forward and swung a clenched fist at Jack. Wild. Unchecked. A quick side step and Jack brought the full momentum body of his around to bear against Gabriel, slamming his elbow into the other man's brow with a blow that sent him to the floor in a heap. "Stay down, Gabe," he warned, cocking his fist back as Gabriel turned to look up at him with a dazed expression. Jack rolled a shoulder, muttering a curse under his breath before gingerly stepping over Gabriel. He hazarded a quick glance back, brow furrowing before he narrowed his eyes into the dark of the cab. Where are they? He stooped low, looking under the ruined seats until his eyes finally fell upon his pulse rifle tucked into the corner and hefted it up to find the last of his emitters hidden beneath it. Collecting the emitter, Jack took a few short steps back to Gabriel and sat down heavily next to him.

"You want to talk or just try to beat it out of me?" Jack offered in a low voice, flicking the emitter to life with his thumb before placing it on the ground between them. "Haven't had a good fight like that in a while."

Gabriel slowly pushed himself upright, his eyes narrowed before he leaned back against the wall and bathed in the soft glow of the emitter. He remained silent, fists clenching above his knees as Jack sat down next to him. Yellow light pulsed beneath their bodies, flickering beneath Reaper's undulating cowl of shadow like a second heartbeat. "Angela."

"What about her?" Jack glanced to Gabriel, gingerly touching his cheek with a wince. _That'd bruise._

"Overwatch has largely purged their medical records. Yours. Mine. Angela would still have the information on.. this," Gabriel gestured to himself, smoke drifting from his hand in a cascade. "Wouldn't she?"

Jack remained silent for several moments, brow furrowing. "This," Jack repeated back, his voice low. "You believe Angela had a hand for contributing to your current state?"

"Death doesn't seem to deter her, does it, Jack?" Gabriel murmured with a mirthless smile, the faint pulse of the emitter flickering weakly before powering down and into uselessness. "Didn't take for me and it sure didn't take for you."

"What happened to you, Gabriel?" Jack leaned forward, craning his head to look at Gabriel. "Why were you in Russia? Why didn't you goddamn tell me?" Gabriel broke Jack's gaze with a grunt, a red-tinged eye flicking to stare blankly down the dark of the underground tunnel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, folks. I was very sick over the past week and had to rewrite this several times after I recovered on Sunday.


	4. Regret

Gabriel looked back to Jack with his jaw set. His expression was haggard, worn. The look of confidence he wore in his youth had slipped away from his features, leaving only the tired ruin of a weary soldier in its place. "I don't owe you anything. Does Angela have the records?"

_Stubborn bastard._ "Don't know. Can't say I really care, either. I haven't seen her in over.. eight months now, Gabriel," Jack replied, slowly standing and looked back down to Gabriel as he shouldered his pulse rifle. "We're done, then?"

"Why didn't you kill me in Russia, Jack?" Gabriel's pressed as he pushed himself up off the floor to meet Jack's gaze with his own. A smoldering mass of shadow wavered from his right eye, snapping greedily at the air with a life all its own. _Maybe I should.._

"Don't know. Almost wish I had," Jack countered, almost a bit too quickly, and took a few steps forward toward the gaping wound in the side of the railcar. _Why?_ He paused, setting his jaw before looking back once more to Gabriel. "You said it yourself. It was a poor judgment call."

He dropped down out of the car onto the defunct underground line with a grunt and squinted into the dark. "Jack," Gabriel was behind him, the shock white of his mask stood out sharply from his raised cowl as Jack returned the rasped plea with a glare. "If yo-" Jack raised a hand, cutting him off as he began.

"Just stop right there. Not accounting the past year, you've made this one hell of a night for me. Why should I even listen to you?" Jack grated out, his expression hardening. "Go back to Talon and collect your money, Gabe. We're done."

"I'll give you what you want if you help me, Jack."

Jack turned away, his steps echoing through the tunnel and pulse thundering in his head. _You're making another mistake. Another 'poor judgment call', to quote the stubborn bastard. But why was he..?_ "You know where the safe house is Gabe, and I need to fix my goddamn gear." Jack called back, his shoulders hunched and brow furrowed. Regret was already setting into his bones like an old, uninvited friend.

\---

Jack warded off the glare of the rising sun with a hand as he plodded down the road to the safe house in Wealdstone, his eyes squinting as the sun rose merrily to meet the skyline. 06:00. He'd been in the underground for too long, leaving him now to weave in and out of the side streets in an attempt to remain unseen as people filtered from their homes to wake to the steadily warming world.

Why had he goddamn invited him to the safe house? It was an old arm of Overwatch that had long been picked over and scavenged of most of its goods in the fall, leaving behind only a moldering shell that Jack had called home for the past four weeks in London. Jack slowly ran a hand along the fire escape railing, pausing to look up at the weathered apartment complex before heaving himself up the rusted stairs. Almost three hours after his departure from the underground and Jack pushed himself into the rundown flat with a weariness that he had not felt in many years. He closed the door behind him, bolting it shut and heaved his pulse rifle onto the rickety table pushed into one corner of the room. _Repairs. Tuning up. Had to be ready whenever Gabriel decides to grace me with his presence.. bastard broke the damn visor._

Jack ran a tired hand over his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with a long sigh. _Shit._ He blinked a few times, clearing his vision before he knelt down next to the unmade cot and groped blindly beneath it before he carefully dragged out a heavy case with the rasp of metal upon stone. Last one he'd found on his trip through the watchpoints scattered across South America before he finally came to London. He popped the lock with a satisfied grunt, heaving back the heavy lid and sat back to inspect the treasure within. The dull, lifeless red curve of a tactical visor greeted him. Calibrations would take several hours. Heaving another sigh, Jack delicately fit the visor over his eyes, pushed himself up and onto the cot before tilting his head back. The visor hummed to life, a blur of static and information flickering past as it began its slow calibration process. The Overwatch logo burns to life before lapsing into dull, small print. Pictograms follow, depicting the process to come as the visor attempts to find Jack's focus. His eyes, heavy with fatigue, slowly close.

\---

Gabriel is behind him, mouthing at his neck before canting his hips upward to meet Jack again with a resounding slap of flesh meeting flesh. Jack braces himself against the shower wall, his head pressing into his forearm before Gabriel fists a hand in his hair to steady himself to set a rapid pace with shallow, punctuated thrusts that leave him feeling, at best, unsatisfied. His softening cock bobs uselessly against his stomach as Reyes pumps upwards into him, lifting his leg for a better angle. Reyes grunts into his ear with each thrust, wordless and oblivious to Jack's growing detachment as he gives Gabriel a sidelong glance. A flash of red as Gabriel catches his gaze before averting his own, chuckling. _Again?_ As Jack reaches a hand down to nurse his flagging erection, Reyes lets go of his head, pushes Jack's questing hand away and chastises him with a nip to the ear with far-too sharp teeth. "We'll get to that, Jack," he mutters, steadying himself again for a slow thrust up into Jack that earns a wince in response before returning to previous pace. A few moments later and Reyes has pulled out, roughly finishing himself in a corner of the shower with a guttural sigh before turning on Jack with a half-hearted smirk. Gabriel reaches outside of the shower, grabbing a towel and throws it on the ground before kneeling before Jack. "Can't let me have all the fun, can you?" Gabriel chides, almost mockingly, before loosely wrapping a clawed hand around Jack's neglected cock and giving it a few rough pumps. Jack opens his mouth, his eyes falling to Gabriel's oddly misshapen hand-- _something is wrong_ \--a protest rising before Gabriel takes him in his mouth, idly tonguing at the head before the face below Jack warps; bone and scarred flesh spilling into a mass of red-wreathed shadow with a rough, sickly laugh. He jerks back sharply as Reaper descends on him, pushing him back against the cold of the subway car. He leans in close, shadow curling around him in a choking miasma, pushing past his lips and down his throat.

"Isn't this what you wanted, Jack?"

Jack struggles to respond, the weight of shadow on his tongue and throat choking the little life left in him as Reaper pushed him down into a smothering embrace, pain now blossoming across his face as blood pools from between his eyes. _Again._

\---

With a seize of limbs and strangled cry, Jack jerked back to the waking world. His visor duly flashed that it was unable to acquire a proper reading, to look directly forward before he tore it off and dropped it on the cot. He sucked in a greedy breath, heart thundering in his chest and whatever erection he may have had at the start of the dream had little chance now as the blood roared in his ears.

"Bad dream?" Gabriel asked, sprawled lazily in the chair next to the bed. "Can't say I've had many of those in the past few years."

Jack took another breath. _Focus._


	5. Answers

"A bad memory," Jack muttered as he sluggishly pushed himself upright, raising a wavering hand to ward off the afternoon light that filtered through the dingy window to his left before looking back. He ran a hand over his brow. "How long have you been watching me?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Maybe three hours," he replied, a rasp of a chuckle escaping him as he idly stretched his legs out. Gabriel's heavy black coat was draped across the back of the chair, his mask set next to Jack's pulse rifle and gloves tucked neatly beneath. Everything in its place as he had always liked it. "You're a heavy sleeper still."

Jack snorted back in reply, pushing himself off the cot and began to wander unsteadily into the darkened kitchen. "You look like you've healed up well for a few hours, Jack," Gabriel continued, his voice a low grumble as Jack rifled through a drawer in silence. A few crumpled papers and old wrappers cascaded to the ground in the wake of Jack's fervent search before he finally produced a beaten up MRE package. "Looks like the serum never broke down for you, did it?" Gabriel questioned, tilting his head back to glance at Jack with a smirk as he crossed back to the bed.

"No, it didn't," Jack muttered, busying himself with opening up the MRE and emptied the contents onto his bed. Crackers. Instant coffee. "You want part of this?" Jack held up the meal.

"No."

"Fine, just going to have some coffee then." Jack threw the crackers and meal onto the table before Gabriel with a mutter before he crossed back to the rusting sink that dominated the small kitchen. "You want some coffee?"

"No, Jack."

The soldier shrugged and turned the faucet on, the pipes rattling in a fit before they finally coughed forth a gout of brakish water. The sudden flow slowed, trickling to a sickly, brown stream that pattered weakly down the drain. Jack exhaled slowly through his nose, eyes closing in a silent plea as he waited for the water to run clear.

"Why are you delaying this?" Gabriel placed an ungloved hand over Jack's as he reached for a dirty mug in the sink, tendrils of smoke pooling from his outstretched limb as Jack stiffened at the contact. Cold. "You invited me. If you don't intend to help me, then I'll go."

Jack swallowed and jerked his hand away before turning to face Gabriel again, his eyes hard as Gabriel took half a step back. "I'll remind you," he began. Focus. Remember. "That not all that many hours ago you beat the shit out of me. You're here with me by my good graces. Or my stupidity."

"So what do you want, Jack?" Gabriel began, his voice low--even--and tilted his head downward. The water finally ran clear as Jack looked back with dull realization, reached to the faucet and slowly turned it back off. "Those days are long past." Jack's skin prickled as Gabriel placed a heavy hand on his shoulder again, his mouth mere inches from his ear as the mercenary urged him to turn. To face him.

His voice was quiet--wavering--as he turned to look upward into Gabriel's red-tinged eye. "I'll help you," he murmured. "That's all I need."

"Ever the selfless boy scout, Jack," Gabriel chuckled, a few wisps of smoke escaping his mouth before a slow smile crept across his weathered features. "Where is Angela?"

"I won't tell you that, Gabe."

Gabriel gave a slow exhale, his eyes lidded. _Why is he so.. calm?_

"Why is that?"

"Your list is long enough. Tell me what happened."

Gabriel moved his hand from Jack's shoulder to his cheek with another chuckle, cold fingers idly tracing along the grizzled jawline before moving up to card through sweat-dampened hair. Jack remained silent, his eyes fixed intently upon Gabriel as his pulse jumped back to life at the intimate display.

"When I came to, Angela was injecting me with something. A serum. I felt like I was on fire. She seemed.. shocked," Gabriel murmured, his left hand shifting to Jack's hip with that easy, cocksure grin. Jack flinched at the sudden touch, pressed himself flush against the sink but it did little to deter Gabriel even as Jack raised a hand to ward him back. A half-step back, his hand still on Jack's hip and expression unwavering. "She'd made a mistake, that much was certain and I did not stay. I couldn't."

Jack's brow furrowed, the hand at his hip tightening as Gabriel leaned in with the faintest wisp of shadow passing between them. _Not now, no. Not now._ "Why couldn't you?"

"Couldn't think. Breathe. Just wanted to be.. somewhere else. I got my wish," Gabriel continued in a low voice, his eye flickered to the window as the pulsing, garish lights of a passing car filtered through from overhead and illuminated the dark flat for a brief moment. "I can't recall where I was, but I felt myself.. move. I didn't understand what had happened, but Talon found me in the weeks to follow as I wandered in this.. state. I know now that the serum from the program is breaking down in my body. Slowly, but surely. Perhaps it was the work of Angela, but I don't think even she was that cruel in the end, Jack."

"What.. state?" Whatever had happened to Gabriel had begun to destroy him from the inside out. Jack knew it as he looked at him, watched the black blood bubbling up between his lips and stained his grit teeth. Knew it when he looked at him bleeding out shadow in the snow in Russia. Gabriel had grabbed him with a cry; exposing the bands of white, fetid flesh that encircled his arms and torso. Even as he died again beneath Jack, he fought him, cursed him. Jack had recoiled, _you're dead--you're fucking dead!_ , and then Gabriel had laughed at him as he retreated back into the streets as Talon descended to extract 'Reaper'. He always laughed at him.

"I find it increasingly harder to maintain this form, Jack. It's become much easier to.. drift." Uneasiness seeped into Jack's bones as he spared Gabriel a sidelong glance. 

"And what did Talon do to you?" Jack asked, his curiosity flared back to life. "What did they offer you?"

Gabriel clicked his tongue. "They did nothing to me, Jack. I was given, more than anything, an opportunity. They asked me one simple question as I recovered: do you like hurting other people?"

Jack turned his head, regarding Gabriel with a narrowed gaze. The man merely smiled, his red-tinged eye lidded again. "We both know the answer to that. Blackwatch was an excellent place for that."

"Angela. I.. no, I don't believe she would be either," Jack finally admitted, blinking blearily through the haze of smoke that Gabriel had expelled from his nose in a short, if not emphatic, huff. He pushed the mercenary back, dislodging the hands from his body before sitting back down on the edge of the bed. The warmth in his belly was subsiding. _Focus._ "She hasn't a cruel bone in her body and she doesn't have your medical records. She doesn't have mine, so I doubt she would have your own. Whatever is left has been redacted or scrubbed from the servers."

"How do you know that?"

Jack refused to make eye contact, instead finding a crack in the floor to keep his attention. _Fitting, really._ "Angela told me.. you had died. After our encounter in Russia, I dug a little deeper. My raids on the old Watchpoints were fruitful at times."

"So, she lied to you. You're far too trusting." Gabriel chuckled, clapping his hands together as Jack glanced up. He gestured to himself with a wavering hand, earning a scowl before he looked back down. "Really, Jack."

"I know," Jack replied, his voice laced with thinly veiled bitterness. _Betrayal? No, Angela had been truthful. Forthcoming._ He clenched his jaw as Gabriel moved before him, his boots stopping before Jack. An idle tap against the ground before he moved to the bed, sat with a grunt, and leaned in close. Jack did not move. "Angela and I have settled it."

"And do you think things are settled between us?"

"No."

Gabriel placed a hand on his thigh, offering Jack that smoke-tinged, crocodile smile that he'd come to know so well in their later years with a tentative squeeze. It was a promise. _I'm proud of you, Jack. You deserve it, Jack. You're fucking great in bed, Jack._ _Ever the fucking charmer._

"We can change that, can't we?"

_Fuck. I really need that coffee._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit: oh my goodness, I actually uploaded an earlier draft than one that I had edited. I've updated it! Should take care of some hanging dialogue and typos.


End file.
